Apologize
by Iseria Dweller
Summary: Fauxnel decides that its time to apologize to the court lady of Asgard. Spoilers for the seraphic gate scene in VPDS.


**MAY I BE DAMNED TO HELL FOR THIS PAIRING OF ARTOLIAN MAGE X COURT LADY.**

....This is VPDS! aka Square Enix's rendition of Freya and the Aesirs you see here are in NO WAY related to the real thing. So please don't kill me ;_; I mean I respect her too but I can't help but get.......a bit fascinated at this twisted pairing I seem to support. -.-'''

AND YES I'M AWARE THAT I'M TOO LAZY TO WRITE HOW FAUXNEL GOT HIS ASS TO SESSRUMNIR.

........Maybe he kinda bargined with Heimdall =_=''''''

The original fic that I wrote has explicit actions in it and I will not post that version up on …..but I think this version is good enough.

**_OoOOo Apologize oOOoO_**

Fauxnel was hardly a man who would crawl back to the lion's den to lick the lion's wounds but he felt the need to do so. In all his 25 years of life as a mortal, never had he insulted a woman before, much less a fertility Goddess!

Then again, Fauxnel was the kind of man who would throw words right into your face without thinking about the consequences that would accompany his choice of vocabulary.

On the other hand, at least his opinions were truthful.

But that didn't mean that she would like it.

Nor did that meant that she would let him off the hook that easily.

For all Fauxnel knew, Freya was probably the reason why he had been experiencing a string of broken relationships as of late. He had left her pretty offerings of jewellaries and flowers at various shrines dedicated to her only to have those offerings taken away by people (such as Sir Gwendal).

Very soon, Fauxnel found himself rather desperate for a way out of his misfortunes which then brings us back to the whole entire point of this PWP fanfic.

The blonde Artolian mage stood before the very gates of Sessrumnir, feeling like a total reject in the plains of Folkvangor. It was just like what the books said – the entire land was dominated with various lovers of all races and genders just like how Valhalla was filled with warriors and blood thirsty demons who lived their entire lives by the heat of war.

Fauxnel hated war but seeing how he was the only one without a partner here made him wished that he was in Valhalla.

It was hard to believe that such a lovely land the size of a small country was under the rule of a bipolar blonde woman. Sure, Fauxnel had encountered various kinds of Aesirs and apart from some really sweet ones like the healer Eir, 99.9% of the Aesir race were just as stuck up as Freya herself.

Then again, if one were to harbor the power of life and death within oneself, wouldn't that grant the person the right to be superior?

_Now isn't the time for such philosophical thoughts!_ Fauxnel reprimanded himself before taking a deep breath.

Just before he could knock his dainty knuckles against the metal doors of Sessrumnir, he heard a rather familiar voice right behind him.

"If you think you can please me with those petty gifts, then I'm afraid you are deeply mistaken, mortal."

A floating shadow of a well defined woman loomed over him from behind and Fauxnel knew that he was in the very presence of the person he wished to see.

She stood tall at an impressive height of around 6"2. Her tight green bodysuit showed off her well defined curves and Fauxnel found himself unable to take his eyes off her figure.

She was like an art and like all other art pieces; Freya knew not the meaning of time.

Fauxnel was sure that Freya was billions of years older then his great grand ancestors but yet this blonde haired woman that stood – no, _hovered _– before him looked no older then 30 of summers.

"What is it mortal?" Freya cooed in a mocking tone, have placed a gloved hand on her right hip. "You weren't too tongue tied when you first laid eyes upon me many months ago. Could it be that you are finally starting to feel the burden of those words you spoke to me during that time?"

The only response the Goddess received was a solemn yet charming low bow. If it was one thing Fauxnel was good at, it was masking his mistakes with an air of elegance.

"If you would please, allow me to redeem myself, my lady." Fauxnel began.

The huge doors before them screeched open by a hidden force. The smell of burnt magic was ten times stronger within Freya's hall and it gave Fauxnel the impression that Freya was either an overly pampered court lady or a lazy one.

Freya teleported right in front of him, back facing him so that he could get an ample view of her well toned body from the back view. Through gaps of golden blonde hair, Fauxnel could see the expensive gold laces that held her outfit tightly in place. The very same shade of gold adorned the outlines of her outfit in the form of delicate trimmings.

Fauxnel had no idea why he even bothered staring at her ample bottom but….

_What wouldn't I give to squeeze it_? Fauxnel wanted to jump off the bridge of Bifrost when that horrid thought edge its way into his head.

Freya on her part probably knew what Fauxnel was staring at. Not that it was a bad thing because Freya prided herself to be the prettiest and radiant of all women in the entire nine worlds. Age did nothing to slow her down.

"Are you simply going to look at me from that very view the whole entire day or would you like to admire me in a setting that will compliment what you so desire to see?" The Goddess' voice mocked lightly.

"Is that an offer, M'lady?" Fauxnel was amused.

Freya slipped a finger underneath Fauxnel's chin. She pulled the man up to his feet so that she could get a good look at his face. If anything, Fauxnel was one feasible creature. He had curly locks that possessed the very same silkiness of the Goddess' golden strands. The Goddess eyed him closely with her steel blue eyes and Fauxnel's heart began to skip several beats.

If she desired so, the very entrance to Freya's hall would be Fauxnel's very grave.

Just as he was about to jump to the worse conclusions, Freya released him from her grip and began to hover away, leaving him extremely confused.

"This man is a worthy guest of my hall. Serve him as you would serve me." Freya declared teleporting out of sight.

It was the closest to 'you are welcomed to stay here until I deem your presence unfit' anyone would've every gotten from the Goddess.

**OoOoOoO**

Fauxnel dined in silence in the solitary confines of the room he was shown to by a lovely pair of servants. He had no desire to mingle with the others downstairs. Besides, he had originally come over here to apologize to this woman. He had expected her to treat him like a lowly servant.

He was expecting her to slap him and punch him.

Instead, he had gotten the total opposite of what he had.

Fear began to flood the back of his mind. Freya wasn't keeping him a prisoner in her hall but what kind of agenda did she have for him?

After the strange confrontation at the entrance of her hall, Fauxnel couldn't find Freya anywhere. He tried to reason with himself that Freya might've been busy attending to her Lord.

But surely she doesn't spend the entire day with him?

A slight tinge of envy hit him at the thought of how lucky the All Father probably is, having such a beauty to all to himself. He doubt Odin was willing to share Freya any time soon-

_Stop it! You're here to apologize to her! You're not here for anything else! _

A strange feeling filled Fauxnel's heart…….was it the bitter taste of disappointment?

Why?

Fauxnel wondered why he had even spoken those words to her back there. It wasn't like he actually meant it but it wasn't like Freya would've accepted him or even paid mind to him if he were to just proclaim how beautiful she is.

No, Freya was used to such compliments already. He needed something to snapped her attention right towards him, even if that attention was coated with malice and anger towards him.

"I didn't mean it……really……" Fauxnel whispered to himself.

A knock on the door signaled that Fauxnel had a visitor. The signature energy that radiated through the heavy oak barrier was a bold hint to the mage that the person on the other side, awaiting his answer, was no mere chamber maid.

"It's open." Fauxnel said.

He was tempted to add in the lines, _'even if it wasn't, you would've blasted your way through' _but decided not to. Freya had been reasonably hospitable towards him.

Perhaps too unreasonably hospitable to his tastes._  
_

_Maybe she is planning to let her husband beat you up._ Fauxnel's inner muse sneered.

A fresh wave of panic hit him at that very thought. Freya on her part seemed rather oblivious to the fear that Fauxnel was feeling as she teleported herself into the room, looking slightly different.

Her green outfit was much more tighter and in a lighter shade of green. Instead of her weird looking hat, a delicate looking chain of jewels hung from her head like a veil. It seemed to Fauxnel that this woman had several copies of her outfits, each with a subtle difference in patterns.

He didn't favour the weird hat she had on every time. She looked just fine without it-

"Wha….what are you doing?!" Fauxnel sputtered as the Goddess began to reach to her back to undo the lacings that held her outfit in place.

"Undressing." Freya replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That I know!" Fauxnel came back to his senses. "But I'm in here! I mean-"

"This is my room." came the Goddess' curt reply. "Now will you help me undress? Of course, if you do not wish to help me do so, you can sit here and wallow in your regret."

Fauxnel was at a total loss at that point.

"Your room? Don't you sleep with your husband?" He questioned as he got up and made his way to Freya.

"I do, if he so desires my presence in his personal chambers in Valhalla." Freya replied. "However time hardly permits him to indulge me as often as he would've liked."

Very slowly and nervously, Fauxnel's delicate fingers began unlacing the gold tread at the back of Freya's outfit. At the very same time, Freya began to toss her gloves off to the side and it was only then did Fauxnel begin to notice the muscles on her arms.

"I didn't come here to-"

"You came here to apologize." Freya interrupted, knowing what kind of thoughts already went on in the young man's mind. "And if that is your intention, then you better serve me well."

Fauxnel was shocked. "You want me to be your chambermaid!?"

Freya jerked her body around and faced him. "What kind of insult is that!?"

Defensively, Fauxnel took several steps back, only to end up tripping over. His fall was cushioned by the cold water bed positioned right in the middle of the huge bed room.

Freya hovered towards him in a manner that seemed extremely insane. She pushed him down to the silk covered mattress and lightly planted her left knee in between his legs.

"You shall serve me in other ways." Freya's tone left no space for any arguments or objections.

And Fauxnel wouldn't even dream of objecting such an honor.


End file.
